The Home I Found in Alaska 



all the thousands of camp-fires I have elsewhere 

 built none was just like this one, rejoicing in triurr 

 phant strength and beauty in the heart of the rar 

 laden gale. It was wonderful, the illumined rain an 

 clouds mingled together and the trees glowing against 

 the jet background, the colors of the mossy, lichened 

 trunks with sparkling streams pouring down the fur- 

 rows of the bark, and the gray-bearded old patriarchs 

 bowing low and chanting in passionate worship ! 



My fire was in all its glory about midnight, and, 

 having made a bark shed to shelter me from the rain 

 and partially dry my clothing, I had nothing to do 

 but look and listen and join the trees in their hymns 

 and prayers. 



Neither the great white heart of the fire nor the 

 quivering enthusiastic flames shooting aloft like 

 auroral lances could be seen from the village on ac- 

 count of the trees in front of it and its being back a 

 little way over the brow of the hill ; but the light in the 

 clouds made a great show, a portentous sign in the 

 stormy heavens unlike anything ever before seen or 

 heard of in Wrangell. Some wakeful Indians, happen- 

 ing to see it about midnight, in great alarm aroused 

 the Collector of Customs and begged him to go to the 

 missionaries and get them to pray away the frightful 

 omen, and inquired anxiously whether white men had 

 ever seen anything like that sky-fire, which instead of 

 being quenched by the rain was burning brighter and 

 brighter. The Collector said he had heard of such 

 strange fires, and this one he thought might perhaps 

 be what the white man called a " volcano, or an ignis 



( 23 1 



